NOTE: If you haven’t been following this from the beginning, and if you want to know the full sequence of events, start with the introduction. Click on Archives on the right.
Daisy is walking Maximilian, a longhaired Dachshund belonging to Hank James, an old friend. He occasionally zooms off the road on the end of his extending leash and through the Virginia creeper like a canine torpedo leaving a trail of pale green agitation. She tells me about Derwent’s recent trouble as we walk along Wickett Street towards Slipps Lane and Boundry Circle with the river visible through the trees.
“How did he fall Daisy?”
“Medications I think … they affect his balance. Bel is very concerned. He is our oldest resident, and she has found him full of useful advice.”
“About the Guild and its politics you mean?”
“Yeah, Derwent goes all the way back to the beginning. He is strongly opinionated but he also sees how things work, and he was on the Guild in some capacity for most of the first twenty years, at least.”
We reach the smoking remains of a stump. A dead gum tree, cut down years ago, left a substantial canyon of rotting wood. Some one emptied a pan of hot coals into the middle of it, which has smoldered for days. Now we can see a fine layer of light gray ash accumulating which looks like the end of an enormous lit cigarette some chthonic smoker enjoys under the peace of the lawn.
“Do you know who lives there, Daisy?” We are looking at a typical Fauxmont brick house beyond the close cut lawn. Blue hydrangeas lean out towards the light on long arching stems in front of the entrance.
“That’s the Rundstedt’s. They are building a big new place up on Boundary Circle”
“There’s a Rundstedt amongst Derwent’s chess students.”
“Yes after Heidi Guderian started, the neighboring kids all wanted to join in.”
“Derwent to me is irascible, yet so different when he is with the kids … what’s wrong with him anyway?”
“He once referred to his ‘Hep C’. I know that’s a disease that could drive any one crazy.”
“Don’t know much about it.”
“Boyd said he’s always been cranky. I don’t know him that well but it’s his back too. I heard he fell and hurt himself.”
“Yes Daisy he told me that, and then went on a rant. By the way, I hear there was a political event, a rally or something, did you go?”
“Yes, I haven’t seen Boyd for two weeks. I guess he is losing interest. He says he’s been away on business, but won’t say what … ”
“Has he found work?”
“No … it is not hard to guess what he’s doing!” A breeze comes up and shakes water from a recent shower out of the oak leaves above us. The stump’s smoke rising from the ground to our right thins into a hazy curtain drawn across the grass. The breeze changes direction and the curtain falls across our path.
“You think he was organizing it?”
“Helping Albrecht organize.”
“Did Boyd or Albrecht speak?”
“No, not publicly, but I had a chat with Albrecht. He had Boyd running around for him.”
“But Boyd is vice Chair of the Guild. Shouldn’t he have spoken?”
“I would have thought so. Albrecht said this was Senator Knox’s show, and we will benefit from giving him the venue.
I mean it wasn’t about Fauxmont it was about CUPA.”
“I gather Albrecht organized the thing.”
“Yes Fred, and Boyd seems to be in such awe of him … I would like to know where the money is coming from?”
“All what money?”
“For printed material, P/A systems, tents, food and drink and so on, and that car Albrecht uses now, and, I mean, he doesn’t seem to have a job.”
“I had no idea it was that big? Here in Fauxmont?”
“Yes Fred, on the grounds of the Co-op.’ A lot of Fauxmont turned out too. Where were you?”
“Oh, out of touch again … were bel or Lou there, Daisy?”
“I saw them both but we didn’t get a chance to talk.”
“Maybe Albrecht has PAC money?”
“Oh sure, I think so, but which PAC, Fred?”
“Lou tells me that Fibonacci Corporation has put millions into the Prune Stone Group and several others.”
“Others, Fred?”
“Is it that 527 organization called ‘Platitudes for Plenty’?”
“Yes that’s not a PAC though Daisy, it’s registered as a social welfare organization, so they don’t have to reveal their sources.”
“Fred, that’s just a technicality! I think they are acting as a PAC … ”
“And it is tax exempt.”
“I don’t know about Prune Stone Fred, but I am sure Jake Trip is mixed up in it. He’s been traveling around the country a lot lately too.”
“Well there’ no limit to how much he can contribute.”
“The Groups like “Platitude” have anonymous donors, so how would Lou know?”
“That’s why it’s called “dark money”. Lou has connections and Daisy, I think Lark said something about Tinderbrush.”
Maximilian wound the extended leash around the trunk of a willow oak chasing a squirrel. Now it is so short he can’t take another turn around the trunk in search of his quarry, which keeps to the opposite side as it climbs away from him. Daisy walks toward the tree past the dog and tries to lead him around to unwind, but an old Volvo station wagon pulls up. A black cairn terrier leaning out of the back window starts barking at Max which makes him pull all the harder in the wrong direction. Daisy waves to the driver, who she knows from the Elegant Ostrich, our new local gift shop. Two more cairns muscle their way up to the open window and all three bark at full volume. After barely audible human voices exchange greetings, the car moves on and Max finds his way around the back following Daisy’s treats.
“How do Dante Rossetti and Gabriel get along with Max?”
“I keep them apart.”
“Do Wombats get along with dogs?”
“I think Max would be trouble. So he stays in the front room and my gang is kept out. There’s some communication under the door though.”
“Yes, like the Prune Stone group and dear Senator Knox.”
